|Dick Grayson is just wingin it (nightwingingit) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2011-11-20 14:29:00
|Entry tags:||allana solo, kon-el/superboy|
Who: Kon and Allana
Where: his place
warnings:rated F for excessive potential fluff.
To be perfectly honest he found that being human was harder then being a super hero this particular weekend. Since he'd returned from the dead things had been pretty up and down as far as emotions went. He didn't realize people were capable of having so many, in the past he always just ignored them and moved along through the motions of existence. In the beginning it was hard. He had Clark hovering for a while, and then Darcy hovered. While he didn't mind Darcy, he didn't know her as well as he knew and trusted Clark. As a result he ended up pushing her away more then he meant to and felt a little bad. Clark was his only family. He wasn't sure if he would call him dad, but brother maybe. Or mentor even. That made it harder. The thing that had killed him was wearing Clark's face. At first he found it hard to even look at Clark, even now it was confusing. He didn't know how he should react or feel to things so he just decided to go with the flow. Forcing himself to avoid Clark felt unnatural, and he didn't like it. So he tried to get things back on track the best he could and just be himself. It was hard.
At night he suffered from nightmares on occasion of Clark's face and falling into darkness. Other nights he dreamed of a nearly empty Smallville that had fallen victim to his own twisted hand. He'd wiped out the entire city and couldn't hear a single heart beat even with his own super hearing. He'd become the weapon Lex had wanted him to be, and everyone was dead as a result. What if that happened in Kansas? He'd frequently visited the sites he remembered fighting Clark. The destruction was hard to look at. Most of it was being repaired by a clueless city, but a lot of it was simply blocked by caution tape. He remembered being at home in Smallville. He remembered thinking that Smallville wasn't really his home. One day he would have to move on. What if he had to do that in this world because of these nightmares and what could potentially come to pass? He didn't want to leave. As fucked up as Lawrence could be, it was one of the few places Kon actually felt mostly accepted. Like he could really call it home.
Sighing in frustration, Kon rolled out of bed in just a pair of sweats and padded bare foot across his apartment to his stereo system where his ipod was plugged in. Pushing play on it he turned up the volume and ran his hand through his messy dark hair. It'd been a long night of tossing and turning. Looking over at the clock he frowned. It was nearly dinner time and he'd slept through the day. He didn't even realize how late he'd slept and how many hours of the day had gone by. Disappearing for a moment to the bathroom he brushed his teeth and washed his face, took care of general hygiene and made his way back to the kitchen staring blankly at his oven. It'd actually gotten some use lately thanks to the magic and wonder that was youtube's instructional cooking videos. Crystal blue eyes turned toward the computer he had on his kitchen counter and he turned the monitor on.
Grilled peanut butter and jelly caught his eye. It was odd to think of Peanut butter and jelly as a hot sandwich but whatever, it was better then the hot pockets he' bought the other day. He really didn't want to touch those again. He turned his pan on medium low and buttered up the bread, putting it on the skillet and waiting. Once it was ready he turned off the stove. It really didn't take that long, Kon slid up on the counter to sit and eat idly trying to think of what he was supposed to be doing that day, and failing.